Aiya!
by Flame Tigress
Summary: "Do you know how Orcs first came into being? They were Elves once..." -- An orc on guard at Barad-dur sees the single star that Sam saw in Mordor and unknowingly, shows that he retains a last shred of Elvishness in his corrupted nature.


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Disclaimer: J.R.R. Tolkien's world; J.R.R.'s words in the Prologue, edited by Christopher Tolkien. Wish I were making money from this, but no such luck.

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Author's Note: An idea that I have had for…I don't even know how long. I finally got around to writing it! Hurrah! One idea down, six to go…no, wait, make that seven…

Pay no attention to the stupid Orc names, but do pay attention to the layers of symbolism and the Deeper Meaning. And the very authentic swearing.

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Prologue

"It is told that even as Varda ended her labours, and they were long, when first Menelmacar strode up the sky and the blue fire of Helluin flickered in the mists above the borders of the world, in that hour the Children of the Earth awoke, the Firstborn of Ilúvatar [God]. By the starlit mere of Cuivénen, the Water of Awakening, they rose from the sleep of Ilúvatar; and while they dwelt yet silent by Cuivénen their eyes beheld first of all things the stars of heaven. Therefore they have ever loved the starlight…" – _Quenta Silmarillion, _"Of the Coming of the Elves"

"…all those of the Quendi [Elves] who came into the hands of Melkor, ere Utumno was broken, were put there in prison, and by slow arts of cruelty were corrupted and enslaved; and thus did Melkor breed the hideous race of the Orcs in envy and mockery of the Elves, of whom they were afterwards the bitterest foes…And deep in their dark hearts the Orcs loathed the Master whom the served in fear, the maker only of their misery. This it may be was the vilest deed of Melkor, and the most hateful to Ilúvatar." – _Quenta Silmarillion, _"Of the Coming of the Elves"

"There, peeping among the cloud-wrack above a dark tor high up in the mountains, Sam saw a white star twinkle for a while. The beauty of it smote his heart, as he looked up out of the forsaken land, and hope returned to him. For like a shaft, clear and cold, the thought pierced him that in the end the Shadow was only a small and passing thing: there was light and high beauty for ever beyond its reach." – _The Lord of the Rings: The Return of the King,_ Book VI, "The Land of Shadow"

* "According to Elvish legend, _ele_ was a primitive exclamation 'behold!' made by the Elves when they first saw the stars. From this origin derived the ancient words _êl_ and _elen,_ meaning 'star'…" – Appendix of _The Silmarillion_

"'_Aiya Eldalië ar Atanatári, utúlie'n aurë!_…Behold, people of the Eldar and Fathers of Men, the day has come!'" – _Quenta Silmarillion, _"Of the Fifth Battle: Nirnaeth Arnoediad"

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Aiya!

Guard duty at Barad-dûr was boring. And, in Ishag's opinion, completely pointless. No fool would dare an open assault on the Dark Lord's stronghold in the heart of Mordor; a sword through the heart would be a less certain death. No doubt, Sauron or whatever of his lieutenants was charged with orchestrating the day-to-day operations of the Dark Tower thought it would look more awesome and menacing if the walls of Barad-dûr bristled with armed guards, their rough armor glinting in the light of industrial fires like the foul, jagged teeth of some monstrous predator.

And so the orcs were forced into guard duty, and awesome and menacing the Dark Tower was; it was bollocks, but it was orders. Ishag tightened his grip on his heavy black spear, letting its weight support him, and yawned listlessly. Beside him, his sentry partner, Gorkû, was leaning against the wall and snoring quietly, his mouth slightly open with a bit of drool trickling from the corner. Ishag didn't bother to wake him; who gave a shit, anyway?

Way out in the distance, something moved in the dark. Ishag strained his eyes against the glare of the torches in their clawed sconces at the corners of the outer walls, flares that looked impressively like thousands of sinister and fearsome red-glowing eyes but were an annoying impedance to the sentries' night vision, to peer westward. It was probably the wind, he decided, stirring some withered, weary, stunted growth on the barren wastes of Mordor. And there sure was a wind, howling and moaning like some poor bugger with his thumbs in the screws, Ishag thought, making the comparison with a cruel satisfaction. It made the torches sputter fitfully, as if the fiery eyes of the tower were restless and searching.

Ishag, like his companion, leaned back against the inner wall of the walkway where they stood guard, and stared uncaringly up at the sky. Then he saw something peering through a rent that the wind had torn in the sheet of ash and smoke that covered the heavens. "Aiya!" he said a little louder than he had intended, an inarticulate expression of puzzlement and surprise. The utterance roused Gorkû, who shook his head and blearily looked around for the reason for his partner's exclamation. "Whassamatter?" he demanded irritably.

"Oi, look at that!" Ishag said, pointing heavenward. Gorkû's eyes followed the direction of his companion's finger, but then he shook his head in confusion. "Don't see nothin'," he grunted.

"That white thing!" Ishag insisted impatiently. "Don't you see it?"

"Oh, that!" Gorkû said wonderingly as he caught sight of it. "Huh. Funny."

It was funny, Ishag agreed. Just a tiny pinpoint of white light. He waited for it to flicker and go out, as ordinary flame inevitably did, but it did not – this was no ordinary flame; it was clean and cold and far too high to touch. It was one of those heavenly lights, but not as repulsive as what he'd heard about the oppressive yellow face that drenched the world in blinding radiance. It was a modest light – that one white dot wouldn't be enough to see by, but if there were more of them, enough to cover the sky…they would light the night as much as the torches around Barad-dûr's battlements. Thousands of eyes, no, millions, up in the sky – like the torches, only eyes that didn't sputter and blink and menacingly search. And eyes that didn't burn hot and make his heavy armor stick to him with his sweat. Clear, cool, steady eyes, so high that they did not need to shift to see everything below them, so high that their gaze upon all the darkness and brutality of the earth was completely impassive. It should have made Ishag nervous and angry to be watched like that by that single, tiny eye, but somehow, it wasn't an unpleasant thought. He was nothing; officers told him all day and night that he and all his fellows were scum and filth and nothing, and he had long believed it; but that eye up there paid attention. He saw it first, and it was his. His kind clung to darkness, without really knowing why, but if all is darkness, no one can see anything. He couldn't see anything in too much light, either, but just a little bit of light – torches or candles or little white dots – kept everything from being darkness.

But it was too much to explain to Gorkû or his officers or anyone, what Ishag thought of when he saw that tiny shaft of cold fire. All he could say to any of them was "Oi, look at that!" And even then, they probably wouldn't understand. Ishag wasn't entirely sure he understood, either. "Oi, look at that!" didn't explain anything.

But somehow, that wordless, unexplained sound of inexplicability, "Aiya!", explained everything.

* Is it just me, or is there something very poetic about the fact that the word for "star" comes from a word meaning "behold"? I just think that is very cool.


End file.
